Fluke
by The Woman on a Flaming Pie
Summary: It was a fluke - all she wanted was to watch over her loved ones. But now she is stuck and, as time passes, so does one's memory. Dedicated to those who wanted a Byakuya/Sakura. Mild spoilers for last arc of Bleach.


author's notes: dedicated to all you lovely people who wanted a Byakuya/Sakura crossover!

* * *

_fl_uke

.

"_Unbeing dead isn't being alive."_

- E.E. Cummings

* * *

It had not bloomed yet.

The tree stood alone on a small hill - a mound really, merely a slightly elevated feature of the earth. The surrounding trees were undoubtedly taller, leafier, and exuded the air of strength and solidity. Amongst such powerful giants, the lone tree seemed inconsequential and ridiculously fragile.

However, those trees were also several meters away from the isolated tree. Watery sunlight dipped into the clearing, its edges softened by the framing leaves of the larger trees. The pale rays draped over the bare branches of the single tree; pulled at the coppery undertones of the bark.

No leaves; no blossoms. It was a late-bloomer.

"Hi!"

His perusal was cut short. There, amongst the slender branches, was a figure swept up in a matching brown cloak and hood, identified as only female by the voice.

"What's your name?"

He turned on his heel and walked away, privacy infringed upon.

"Wait-!"

The crunch of grass underfoot and the whispering of the green blades made him think she was going to follow him. But - after the slightest of hesitations - she did not make any other move towards him, no other words, and so he left.

.

.

.

"You're very rude … you know that right, Stranger-san?"

He ignored her, opting to continue his studying of the not yet ornamented tree. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her kick her legs out petulantly from her perch.

"Really, Rude Man-san, your attention is flattering."

He now looked up. Was that sincerity or sarcasm? He could not tell - her face was still cast in shadow.

"Kuchiki Byakuya."

"Aa! Now we're getting somewhere, Byakuya-san!

"Y'know," she continued, raising a hand to thoughtfully tap where he assumed her chin was from within the deep shadow of her hood, "You remind me of someone... Someone..."

His mouth was a tight line. "You are becoming annoying."

She hissed, "'Annoying'?! Well, fine then!" And she vanished.

.

.

.

As he walked into the clearing, he could easily see the vague cloud of green hanging on the tree. Its leaves, now only pale green slips of delicate foliage, emerged from the once unembellished branches. The blossoms would soon follow.

It was silent, with the exception of the wind.

The spring breezes pulled at his loose clothing, and blew in his scowling face. However, he could tell that a faint zephyr curled around the lone tree, tender towards it, yet begrudging towards him.

The leaves of the larger trees rustled together - a susurrus of laughter.

He was not deterred by the vexing wind, and stood under the thin branches.

The wind could not stay for much longer. With one final gust, it left. He watched as the branches lifted in the wind's wake as if attempting to pull it back but they gradually fell and stilled.

It was silent.

.

.

.

"Onīsama...? Where have you been?"

He looked into his little sister's eyes; he saw the trust pooled there. She deserved the truth.

"Hanami."

.

.

.

"What is your name?"

She nearly fell out of the tree at his attempt to start a conversation.

She had green eyes, he could see now, though much of the rest of her face was still shadowed by her hood. And her dark cloak was more open, allowing for him to see a glimpse of a light green yukata.

"I don't know," was her answer finally.

He regretted bothering to ask.

"_Well_ - I guess I _do_ know, or, at least, I _did _know." Her voice grew softer. "It … It's been so long … so long since anyone came by … so long since anyone called me by my name..."

"... I don't remember."

.

.

.

The air was still charged with electricity and the tense atmosphere was thick on his skin. No amount of sunlight could pierce through the heavy, almost black clouds overhead. The previously opposing wind thrashed at his back, pushing him forward while howling mournfully in his ears.

The strong scent of smoke and burned forest was acrid in his nostrils. A once tall tree had fallen, struck down by the merciless lightning, charred from the inside out, limbs lying where they had been ripped and broken off. It was not the only tree that felt the storm - several other giants - seemingly near-invincible - had crashed to the ground, littering the forest floor like a battlefield.

Surely - with such damage that even the mightiest trees had fallen - the solitary tree did not survive?

Albeit battered, it still stood.

.

.

.

He watched from a distance, standing amidst the surviving branches of the larger trees. From where he stood he could clearly see the budding flowers adorning the lone tree. They were a light pink, and though still tightly closed, he knew it would not be long before they would unfurl in blushing splendor.

He watched as she danced, laughing and twirling around the blooming tree. Her brown cloak swirled high as the playful wind joined her. Above her head, the budding branches dipped and swayed along to the blithe rhythm.

On the last turn, before his sight of her was cut off by the tree, her hood dropped and a mane of petal-like hair was tossed around by the wind.

He expected to her to appear on the other side of the tree but she did not.

.

.

.

She greeted him with a soft smile. "Hello, Byakuya-san."

He gave a slight nod.

She had abnegated her dark brown cloak this day, revealing her to be much smaller than he had originally thought. And her green eyes were much brighter without the shade of her hood. However, his attention was drawn to her hair. It was unbound and long and pink. A few shorter locks framed her face, but it was the color that surprised him the most. This close, he now knew that his eyes had not been deceived.

She caught him staring, and one corner of her mouth tilted up in amusement and her eyes twinkled with dismaying mirth.

His gaze traveled back to the flowers. The branches were now heavy with pink cherry blossoms, and the delicate scent permeated the air.

"These are the most beautiful sakura blossoms I have seen."

He meant to push her scrutiny away from him and to the tree, but, curiously, she blushed instead, the color in her cheeks much akin to both her hair and the flowers.

"Ano … I'm sure you've seen much prettier, Byakuya-san," she supplied, suddenly shy.

"No."

He stared down at her, but she refused to meet his eyes, deciding to nervously tuck a piece of roseate hair behind her ear.

"Thank you, then, Byakuya-san."

"They are yours?"

She gave him a small, mysterious smile.

"In a way, yes."

.

.

.

He heard a solid _thunk_, and the forest shivered. Another _thunk_, and the birds ceased their songs. And another _thunk_, and he frowned.

He picked up speed and arrived at the clearing in time to see the fool pick up his ax again.

Furious and impetuous, his presence lashed out at the human, scaring him enough that once the atmosphere lightened, the human fled.

The splinters jutted out of the trunk like broken bones; sap welled out like weeping blood. Many blossoms lost their petals, scattered on the ground, crumpled and bruised.

"B-Byakuya-san …"

She lay on the ground, the ragged petals dotted around her. Her rosy hair was stark against her graying skin. She pressed her arms to her abdomen, but it was futile for he could see the grave wound there, the dark red blood quickly showing.

"I - I remember, Byakuya-san... I remember ev-everything..."

"Stop talking," he ordered, kneeling down by her side while simultaneously unwrapping the scarf around his neck.

He pressed the silk to her wound, overlooking the fact that her abdomen was leaking more blood than the fabric could stop. She placed one bloodied hand over his.

"Byakuya-san …"

Her face was shockingly peaceful; she was accepting of her end, much like his wife.

"A-ask me my n-... my name again, Byakuya-san."

Something was lodged in his throat, it made talking suddenly difficult - but he managed.

"What is your name?"

She smiled a dazzling smile, so proud of herself. "Haruno Sakura."

A low groan forced him to look away and at the cherry blossom tree. Loud snaps and cracks issued from the trunk and the top half fell to the ground, sending a grand cloud of petals to block his vision.

When he could see again, the tree was bare, stark; devoid of any sort of color. And Sakura - she was gone as well. Had it not been for her blood that still dripped from his hands, she might have never existed.

Two feet stood before him. "Byakuya-san."

He glanced up to see her, whole and healthy. She was dressed differently, clothed in the style he had briefly seen pictured in the more historic memorials in the town nearby. But, tied around her hips, his scarf fluttered softly.

Her fingers - clean of blood - gently touched the underside of his jaw. He let her move his face upward without protest. She leaned forward, until her long hair fell around them, filling his peripheral vision with pink. Her other hand swept his bangs to the side and she sweetly kissed his forehead.

"Thank you, Byakuya-san," she said before she drew away.

.

.

.

"Where's your ginpaku kazahana no uzuginu, Kuchiki-taichō?"

"..."

"Eh, if you don't wanna talk about it, it's okay - "

"... I do not need it."

"Um, okay..."

"Our mission is to observe Kurosaki Ichigo, not me, Renji."

"R-right! Yes, sir."

His gaze became unfocused as he looked past the present.

_'Haruno Sakura' ... what a fitting name, Sakura-san..._

.

.

.

His gaze was darkening - though, with every shade of black, his pain lessened. That is, his physical pain; the mental pain of the other half of his soul stolen and used against him still left him in a state of shocked agony.

He drifted away - away from the pain; from the harsh clangs of his lieutenant; from the wrenching cries of his sister.

"Byakuya-sama..."

"Hisana?"

There, illuminated from behind by some sort of large window of light, stood his beloved wife. She smiled and nodded, tears and love in her eyes.

He reached for her, his hand to hers, when his merely passed through. Her fragile hand swirled in the wake like disturbed dust, only to whirl back around to form her hand again. He wanted to touch her - hovering his hand again to the light-kissed edge of her cheek - but he concluded that the same result would happen.

"My love ... Byakuya-sama, you have to go back."

He wanted to grab her tiny shoulders, hold her taut against his chest, and never let go. She was so close! And even now, as his eyes looked past to the window of light, there was a way for them to be together again, but she was denying it to him.

"Not yet, Byakuya-sama. I love you but it is not time yet... You are not ready..."

He frowned down at her. "I am ready, Hisana."

Her hand wavered over his chest, the center where every being's soul resided, but her eyes remained locked with his. "In time, my love."

"Use me," supplied a new voice.

His line of sight twitched to identify the owner.

"Sakura-san."

"Hello again, Byakuya-san," she grinned at him. The woman was lounging on the windowsill, one leg propped up while the other dangled. His scarf was still tied around her hips, the silken ends stirring slightly.

Her face turned suddenly serious and she lightly hopped off her resting place to stand next to his wife. "Use my power. I'll help you, Byakuya-san."

He glanced at both women, probably conspiring together. "No."

Pink eyebrows sailed to a matching hairline. "'No'?!"

"Byakuya-sama, please, at least consider. Without Senbonzakura-sama - "

"I know, Hisana," he interrupted her gently.

His wife's eyes shone with worry while she shook her head. By her side, Sakura pursed her lips and crossed her arms over her chest.

"In that case... Hisana-san~?" A green gaze slanted over to blue-violet eyes.

"I love you, Byakuya-sama," his wife declared softly as her spirit dissipated into golden particles of dust and was sucked back into the window.

"I'm sorry, Byakuya-san," Sakura was saying as he remained riveted to the light, "This may sting a little..."

Perhaps it was his inattention that made the blow hurt more, but he was taken by surprise at the blunt, powerful punch to his chest by the deceptively petite woman.

"You're a proud, stubborn man, Byakuya-san," was the last thing he heard before his world exploded with a multisensory paroxysm.

.

.

.

" - stable now!"

"Don't worry, taichō!"

"You're in good hands, Kuchiki-taichō."

"... you had us all worried, Onīsama..."

" - ! The Fourth Division has been breached!"

_"My offer still stands, Byakuya-san..."_

.

.

.

* * *

author's notes: I meant for this to be a one-shot, but the concept is very intriguing, no? We'll see...

ffnet was not allowing me to upload this through my iPad, dammit, I do not know what is going on, but it is highly inconvenient. Though, it kind of forced me to expand on this so I guess it had its pros.

Let me know what you think!


End file.
